


Snake Eyes

by Actual_Trash



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abused Harry, Abusive Dursley Family (Harry Potter), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boy-Who-Lived Neville Longbottom, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Good Severus Snape, M/M, Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Severus Snape Adopts Harry Potter, Slytherin Harry Potter, Smart Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:34:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23534629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actual_Trash/pseuds/Actual_Trash
Summary: This is a story where Neville grew up as the boy who lived and Harry’s parents were tortured into insanity. Harry is often overlooked and ignored, but the young Slytherin has a lot more potential than anyone ever thought possible.Severus Snape is the first one to see that potential, and perhaps Harry can help break him out of his expertly crafted shell and they can build the family they so desperately crave.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 27
Kudos: 293





	Snake Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, thank you for clicking on my story.
> 
> I've had this one brewing since 2015 and I finally decided to post the first chapter. I'm sorry to all of those people who are waiting on my other works, I promise I haven't forgotten about them. I will get back to them one day.
> 
> I'm not sure how to rate this story, I feel uncomfortable rating it mature or explicit while Harry is still a child. Perhaps when he gets older I will raise the rating. Or maybe I will ship Snape with someone, but I'm not usually a Snape fan so I have no one I really like to ship him with, so I am open to any suggestions. (No one underage please!)
> 
> This is only a Teen and Up rating because I mention Harry's abuse, and there are some mature themes not suitable for kids here.
> 
> Anyway, thanks again and I hope you like my retelling of Harry's story.

Harry Potter groaned as his aunt rapped smartly on his cupboard door. She always got him up early on Mondays because he had to cook a full fried breakfast for the family. But despite slaving away at the stove he was never allowed a plate for himself. Harry wasn’t allowed those luxuries. Freaks like him didn’t get bacon and eggs.

  
Slipping out from under his threadbare duvet Harry swiftly dressed in his cousin’s ratty hand-me-downs. Once he was decent he peeked out from behind his cupboard door. It wasn’t uncommon for Vernon or Dudley to give Harry a good whack early in the morning when their moods were particularly foul.

  
Judging the coast to be clear Harry made his way to the kitchen.

  
His aunt Petunia was busy setting the table. It was one of the few chores she actually did; Harry bore the brunt of them. Petunia would never dirty herself weeding the garden or cleaning the cars.

  
Harry was plating up the still sizzling bacon when he heard the thunder of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Judging by the rapid speed it was Dudley.

  
Harry’s guess was proved correct when his large cousin squeezed into the room. As Dudley passed the stove he gave Harry a sharp poke in the ribs with his elbow, nearly making him drop the teetering stack of plates.

  
He took the abuse silently. Harry knew if he made a fuss it would just earn him more punishment.

  
As Harry was setting the plates on the dining table, his uncle entered the kitchen. Vernon didn’t even spare a glance at his nephew. It was like Harry wasn’t even there.  
Harry actually preferred it that way. It was much better than being noticed. Because any attention paid to him was usually negative, and he always ended up coming away with a few extra bruises when that happened.

  
Once his family had settled down to eat, Harry stayed standing in the corner of the room. He meekly bowed his head, not wanting to catch the eye of his uncle or cousin.

  
“Orange juice!” barked Dudley as he held out his empty glass for Harry to fill.

  
Swiftly following the order Harry fetched the juice from the fridge and poured it into his cousin’s glass. The smell made Harry’s mouth water.  
He’d never liked bacon or eggs they were too salty and rich for Harry’s simple stomach, but the few dregs of orange juice he’d managed to scavenge over the years had been delicious.

  
Harry stayed in the corner of the room until he heard the familiar clink of the letter box and the flop of mail on the doormat. Harry went to fetch the post without an order, already knowing what to do after years of this routine.

  
Shuffling through the mail Harry discarded the junk and was about to go back into the kitchen when a heavy envelope with bright green ink caught his attention.

  
_Harry gasped as he read the address._  
_Mr H. Potter_  
_The Cupboard Under the Stairs,_  
_4 Privet Drive,_  
_Little Whinging,_  
_Surrey._

  
He had a letter!

  
Harry had never received any mail in his life, let alone an envelope that looked so regal. It was even sealed with glossy red wax. Harry’s heartbeat was in his mouth and he felt his fingers tremble under the heavy parchment.

  
He knew that if his family saw the letter they’d immediately take it from him, so on his way back to the kitchen Harry detoured into his cupboard and silently slipped it under his mattress.

  
When Harry re-entered the kitchen he was sure his family would somehow know what he’d done, but they just continued to contently munch on their breakfasts none the wiser.

  
Harry handed Vernon the mail and went to stand in the corner again, excitement bubbling inside his chest like a fountain.

  
The rest of the Dursley’s breakfast passed smoothly and before long Vernon was preparing to leave for work, and Dudley was getting ready for school.

  
As they made their way out of the dining room Harry started to clear the table. The leftovers were his breakfast. There was never much because Vernon and Dudley ate like they were starving, but Petunia pecked at her food like a bird so there was always a bit left for Harry.

  
This time Harry managed to scavenge some toast crusts, the better half of a grapefruit and a few mouthfuls of scrambled eggs. All in all it was one of his better meals.

As soon as the table was cleared and the plates were washed up, Harry rushed out of the door and tried to make it to school on time.

  
Vernon gave Dudley a lift in his fancy company car every morning, but Harry had no such luxury.

  
After arriving only minutes late Harry’s day sluggishly crawled past. His classes always seemed so easy and boring to him. He remembered when he was seven years old his teacher ringing up his aunt to tell her how Harry possessed an extraordinary academic mind, but instead of praising him she scolded him for outperforming Dudley.

  
Luckily his teachers had never called home again so Harry was free to ace his classes unscathed.

  
Despite the ease of his school work the day seemed to be going so slow it almost felt like it was going backwards. All Harry could think about was the letter waiting for him under his mattress at home. Despite the slow passage of time, the end-of-school-bell finally rang and Harry hurried to collect his bags and homework. Anticipation coiled and squirmed in his stomach like a writhing snake.

  
Harry made it home in record time. Unfortunately Petunia handed him a list of chores as soon as he was through the front door, and he had no choice but to make a start on them immediately or face his aunt’s wrath.

  
So Harry made the beds, vacuumed the carpets, dusted the shelves and watered the houseplants. By the time all that was done it was nearly six o’clock and he had to make a start on dinner.

  
Working on auto-pilot Harry’s mind wasn’t on what he was cooking, it was firmly set on the mysterious letter hidden in his cupboard.

  
The Dursley’s ate fast and left little behind, but Harry managed to scrape a few forkfuls of spaghetti and one meatball together for his meal.

  
After the washing up was done, Harry was finally left to his own devices.

  
He usually liked to stay in his cupboard and read or do his homework when he had free time, so his absence wasn’t missed by the Dursleys.

  
Once safely shut in his cupboard Harry took a deep breath and slid his arm under his mattress, trying to feel for the thick parchment.

  
For a wild moment Harry thought perhaps he’d dreamt the whole thing up out of sheer desperation, but sure enough his fingers brushed against the stocky envelope. Harry’s heart swelled with elation, and a foolish grin spread across his face.

  
After pulling it out from under his mattress, Harry allowed himself a minuet to admire the letter – noticing the seal pressed into the red wax for the first time. It was a coat of arms depicting a lion, eagle, badger and a snake. Harry gently caressed the handsome insignia with the tip of his finger.

  
He tried his best to prise it off without cracking the wax, and grinned happily to himself when he succeeded. Harry stowed it away in his rickety bedside table away from the prying eyes of his aunt, along with all his other treasures. (A mother of pearl button, a battered lego Gandalf, and a lace handkerchief Mrs Figg had given him.)

  
Carefully unfolding the heavy parchment Harry stared in disbelief at the contents. This had to be some kind of joke.

  
_Dear Mr Potter,_  
  
_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._  
_Term begins on the 1st of September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July._  
  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Minerva McGonagall_  
_Deputy Headmistress_  
  
Harry crushed the letter up into an angry ball and threw it at the closed door of his cupboard, and frustrated tears welled up in the corner of his eyes.

  
Harry had dared hoped that maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who wanted him. Who wanted to take him away from this dreadful family, but it was just an elaborate hoax.  
Harry had no idea who would have done this. The only name that sprang to mind was Dudley. But the boy was far too stupid to execute something so professional, and he wouldn’t have been able to resist gloating about it.

  
Nevertheless, Harry felt a cold, hard ball of disappointment settle firmly in his stomach.  
Harry put the letter out of his mind and didn’t think about it again until the early hours of his eleventh birthday.

  
…

  
  
It was the thirty first of July, dead-on six o’clock in the morning when there was a loud crack outside. Harry jolted awake instantaneously. He’d always been a light sleeper. He put it down to the fact that he never felt very safe in this house, and was always on the lookout for danger.

  
Harry listened intently and for a while he thought it was silent, but sure enough he heard softly approaching footsteps. Then the hard crunch of gravel as someone made their way up number four’s driveway.

  
Harry waited with baited breath, we’re they about to be burgled?

  
He nearly jumped out of his skin when the doorbell rang. Harry knew burglars definitely didn’t announce themselves before they broke in.

  
A few seconds after the chime went off there was the sound of scuffling upstairs, and the heavy thump of his uncle’s footsteps.

  
Harry’s bed springs bounced with every step his uncle took down the stairs and a few spiders fell from the ceiling, Harry gently fished a particularly large hairy one out of his hair.

  
There was the sharp clinking of the door chain, and the soft snick of a latch being unlocked as Harry’s uncle opened the door – grumbling to himself all the while.

  
Harry pressed his ear to the keyhole on his cupboard door. He wanted to hear exactly what was about to happen.

  
A smooth oily voice he didn’t recognise was the first to speak.

  
“Good morning, you must be Vernon Dursley,” the stranger sounded like he thought that the morning was anything but good. Harry was inclined to agree.

  
The booming voice of his uncle spoke next, “What the ruddy hell are you doing calling on our house at this hour!?”

  
There was an exasperated sigh from the stranger, “Believe me Mr Dursley I would much rather be at home myself, but I’ve been sent to collect the Potter brat.”

  
“Why on earth do you want the little freak?” questioned Vernon, his voice had warmed to the stranger slightly. It seemed he approved of the stranger’s negative attitude towards Harry.

  
“Didn’t you get our letter?” drawled the stranger as if this was the most boring conversation he’d ever been subjected to.

  
There was a brief hush in conversation. Harry could only assume Vernon had shaken his head in reply.

  
The scuffle of paper and what could only be the tearing of an envelope broke the fragile silence. Then it went quiet again as Vernon read what he’d just opened.

  
Harry noticed that he was quaking with fear or excitement (he couldn’t tell), this definitely had something to do with the letter he’d received a few weeks ago. Was he about to be finally saved from the abusive house of the Dursleys?

  
There was some angry spluttering from Vernon and then he started to practically yell at the stranger, “Who do you think you are barging into my home, forcing your freakishness upon my family? He won’t go, I won’t allow it! I’m not paying for some crackpot old fool to teach him magic tricks!”

  
The stranger didn’t seem perturbed by Vernon’s shouting at all and calmly replied in his slick, oily voice, “You really have no choice in the matter, I’m afraid I’m taking the brat whether you like it or not. The boy has had a place at the school since the day he was born. And as for tuition, you needn’t worry about fees. That is all taken care of.”

  
There was some more grumbling from Vernon and then the slam of the front door.

  
“So where is he?” demanded the stranger.

  
Silence.

  
“Where is he?” repeated the stranger tersely.

  
Harry could only presume that Vernon had pointed in his direction, because the stranger’s footsteps swiftly approached his cupboard.

  
“May I ask why he is in a closet?” The stranger sounded like he chewed on every word before he spat them out.

  
Harry shrank back against the wall, afraid of the stranger for the first time.

  
“Because that’s the only place freaks deserve to be!”

  
Harry jumped in shock at the loud boom of his uncle’s voice suddenly so close.

  
The stranger muttered something under his breath and there was a sharp zapping noise followed by a yowl from his uncle.

  
“What did you do?” moaned Vernon.

  
The stranger replied rather gleefully, “Just a stinging hex, you best go back to bed because the next time my hand slips it won’t be so forgiving.”

  
Vernon whimpered and scurried away, Harry felt the thump of his footsteps as he went back upstairs. What could of the stranger done to scare his usually unflappable uncle?

  
Now more afraid than curious Harry hunched himself up in the corner of his cupboard, and tried to look as small as possible.

  
Harry heard the stranger step closer to his cupboard, and start unlatching the numerous locks. Harry wondered what he’d do when he got to the one that needed a key.  
Instead of going to interrogate Vernon for it, the stranger murmured a word harry didn’t understand.

  
“ _Alohomora_ ,”

  
Harry gasped as he heard the lock click open. And sure enough, his cupboard door swung outwards.

  
The sudden brightness of the hallway stung Harry’s eyes, and he could only see the silhouette of the stranger. From what Harry could make out, the stranger was very tall and thin with straight jaw-length hair.

  
There was a muttered curse from the stranger as he took in Harry’s surroundings.

  
As Harry’s eyes got used to the light he saw that the stranger was an almost sickly looking man, with pale skin and gaunt cheekbones, and there was something harsh and hawk-like in his hard stare.

  
“I’m going to kill that old fool,” swore the stranger.

Harry just stayed silent and tried not to catch the man’s eye.

  
For the first time the man looked directly at Harry. Harry wasn’t sure what he was looking for but it seemed like he found it when he extended a bony hand.

  
“Don’t worry Potter, I’m not here to hurt you.”

  
Harry stared skeptically at the man’s hand. He wasn’t about to trust a stranger. For all he knew this man could be worse than Vernon.

  
The stranger rolled his eyes, “Potter I’m not an enemy, I’m here to take you away from this suburban hellhole.”

  
Harry knew that he should probably be polite to this stranger, he could be dangerous, but he couldn’t help asking, “Who are you?”

  
The stranger didn’t seem any more annoyed than he already was, and answered, “My name is Severus Snape, I used to be a friend of your mother and I’m a teacher at Hogwarts.”

  
Harry let out a stuttering gasp, the letter was real, and this man knew his mum? He blinked a few times and let the knowledge sink in.

  
“The letter said I was a wizard…” Harry mumbled quietly.

  
“That’s because you are one Potter, your mother is a witch and your father is a wizard.”

  
Harry suddenly snapped up to meet Snape’s hard gaze, “My mother **_is_** a witch? She’s alive!”

  
Snape looked lost for words for a moment but then his face settled firmly into a frown, “Yes she is, what did those muggles tell you?”

  
Harry didn’t know what a muggle was but he guessed Snape was talking about his aunt and uncle.

  
“That my mum and dad died in a car crash because… because they were drunk,” said Harry softly.

  
His parents had always been a tender subject for Harry, his aunt and uncle always made sure he knew about what awful people his mum and dad had been.

  
If it was possible Snape’s face went even paler and hot fury burnt in his black eyes, “You’re parents are very much alive, and they were not drunks. Your mother was one of the kindest people I have ever known.”

  
Snape took a deep breath almost like it pained him.

  
“But I’m afraid they’re not what they used to be.”

  
“What happened,” breathed Harry.

  
“There was a wizard, a terrible man, and he had a lot of equally dreadful followers. And I’m afraid they tortured your parent’s into insanity. They can’t leave Saint Mungos hospital.”

  
Silence hung in the air like choking smoke, and Harry felt like someone was squeezing painfully at his heart.

  
Harry swallowed and forced back stinging tears, “Why did my aunt and uncle lie to me all this time?”

  
“Many muggles are afraid of magic, and unfortunately your family seems to be on the more extreme end of the scale,” replied Snape with an air of disgust.

  
That brought Harry’s attention back to that Snape thought he was magical, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a wizard.”

  
Snape made a scoffing sound, “Have you ever done something unusual when you were scared or upset?”

  
Harry thought back to all the times when odd things had happened to him. Now he thought about it, he had nearly always been feeling scared or angry when something peculiar happened around him.

  
Harry soon realised that magic was practically the only explanation for talking snakes, that or he was completely off his rocker.

  
“So what happens now?” He asked.

  
“Because you didn’t send an owl with your reply back to Hogwarts, I've been sent to collect you and take you to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies,” replied Snape.

  
Harry couldn’t contain his gleeful excitement and a wild grin exploded across his face, “So will I get to leave the Dursleys for good!?” he asked jubilantly.

  
“I’m certainly not letting you stay here, no matter what the headmaster says. This is no place for a child.” Snape practically growled.

  
“The headmaster of Hogwarts made me live here?” asked Harry, immediately taking a dislike to the man who had sent him into the heart of an abusive household.

  
“I’m afraid so,” said Snape with a frown, “He always has his reasons, but he can expect far too much from people. Which he evidently did with your aunt and uncle.”

  
Harry nodded, but couldn’t help but feel bitter towards the headmaster. It wasn’t like he ever sent someone to check up on him.

  
“Well, as I said Potter, I’m taking you to Diagon Alley to buy your school things. We’ll apparate because it’s far easier than going through the Leaky Cauldron.”

  
Harry didn’t understand any of what Snape said, but he’d always been taught from a young age that adults didn’t like children asking questions, so Harry stayed silent.

  
Meanwhile Snape gave Harry a sharp but thoughtful look. He’d expected the young Potter to be a carbon copy of his father. He practically was in appearance. But he was reserved, withdrawn and not to mention stick thin. Harry was nothing like the boisterous arrogant James Potter. For that Snape was relived, but also worried.

  
The potions master heaved out a sigh, “Come along Potter, we can’t apparate in here.”

  
“I need to get dressed first sir,” said Harry as he tugged at his overlarge striped pyjamas.

  
Snape gave a curt nod, “I’ll wait in the driveway for you,” and then he strode out of the door.

  
Harry dressed swiftly and skipped brushing his teeth, fearing that his uncle would come back downstairs and try to stop him leaving with Snape.

  
He dressed in a pair of ragged jeans with holes torn in the knees, a ratty t-shirt that used to be blue and was now a washed-out grey, and his only pair of shoes – a faded pair of trainers that were falling apart at the seams. Harry also slipped on his glasses, which were held together with a copious amount of sellotape.

  
Harry knew he looked a mess, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. With one last feeble attempt at flattening his hair, Harry made his way outside to join Snape.

  
Snape gave Harry a once over when he was outside and gave a disapproving sniff.

  
“Do your relatives ever buy you anything new?” He asked.

  
Harry just shook his head, and pushed his glasses higher up his nose to hide his blush.

  
Snape exhaled slowly. Child abuse was one thing he couldn’t stand, especially because he himself was a victim of it in his youth.

  
“Well your parents left you a small fortune so you don’t have to worry what you’ll look like at Hogwarts,” reassured Snape. He knew how important it was for a child to fit in. A luxury he never had.

  
Harry jerked his head up so fast he thought he’d jarred his neck, “But they’re still alive, why is the money mine?”

  
Snape gave a Harry an almost sad look, but he was pretty sure that this intimidating man had never been anything but fully in control of his emotions, “Your parents are in no state to look after themselves let alone use their Gringotts account. So its control has been passed on to you.”

  
Harry swallowed and looked at the ground, “Oh.”

  
Snape seemed to fidget on the spot for a moment, as if he was unsure what to do, “Well we should be going now Potter, we have a lot of things to get for you.”

  
Harry nodded and looked up at the stern professor.  
He’d always been perceptive, and now he noticed that Snape may be cold and harsh on the exterior but there was something lurking beneath his frosty façade. And he did care about what happened to Harry at least a little bit, even if it was only because he’s been close to Harry’s mother.

  
“We’re going to apparate, which can be uncomfortable, especially for first timers. So hold onto me tightly,” said Snape as he extended his arm towards Harry.

  
Harry hesitated briefly, but grasped Snape’s hand firmly with his own. And before he knew it he was being forced through an intense, suffocating darkness. He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t see, Harry was sure he was going to die. But within a split second noise and colour crashed over him in a colossal wave.

  
Harry bent over double, and rested his hands on his knees gasping for air.

  
“Are you alright Potter?” asked Snape in his slick voice, only slightly breathless.

  
Harry nodded and straightened up, and anything he was about to say was silenced immediately. He stared in awe at the surrounding street.

  
It was the liveliest most vibrant place Harry had ever seen. There were people in bright robes bustling about with bulging shopping bags, and there was the constant noise of chatter. Harry swore he could hear the soulful hooting of owls and the gentle chirp of frogs in the distance.

  
“Welcome to Diagon Alley, Potter,” said Snape, clearly enjoying the dumbstruck look of amazement on Harry’s face.

  
“First we have to collect your money.”

  
Harry just nodded and stuck close to Snape as they made their way up the busy street. A snowy white building soon loomed out over the squat shops, Harry stared at it with reverence. He’d never seen such a grand building in all his life.

  
But his attention was soon taken from the magnificent structure and redirected to a swarthy, clever-faced person who was standing next to the doors. He was a head shorter than Harry and certainly wasn’t human. His teeth were pointed and he had very long fingers and feet.

  
Snape muttered under his breath, “That gentleman is a Goblin, they run Gringotts.”

  
The goblin bowed, Harry bowed back – not quite sure what the etiquette for goblins was. It earned him a cruel smile and a wink from the goblin. Snape just rolled his eyes.

  
“Come along, Potter,” said Snape as he ushered Harry inside.

  
Once inside Snape led Harry up to a free desk-goblin.

  
“Good morning, we’re here to make a withdrawal from the Potter vault,” explained Snape.

  
The goblin looked over his desk and down at Harry, “Do you have his key, sir?”

  
Snape nodded and withdrew a tiny golden key from his pocket, “I also have a letter from Professor Dumbledore.”

  
He then slid the key and the letter across the table towards the desk-goblin. The goblin examined the key and gave an approving nod, and then read the letter.

  
“Very well,” said the goblin, “I’ll have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!”

  
Yet another goblin arrived and said, “If you would like to follow me gentlemen.”

  
Harry and Snape trailed after the goblin, into the bowls of Gringotts.

  
One wild cart-ride later Harry was a pocket full of gold heavier and Snape had collected one small grubby package.

  
But Harry knew it was something important, not just because it had a vault all of its own but because he could feel the magic rolling off it like a thick mist. He wasn’t sure how he knew it was magic, but he could feel it buzzing deep in his bones.

  
Harry and Snape emerged from Gringotts blinking in the sunlight, and Harry didn’t know where to turn first. Diagon Alley really was very overwhelming.

  
“May I suggest you buy your school robes first, and perhaps some everyday wizarding clothes,” said Snape gesturing to a cheerful shop called _Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions_.

  
“I’m going to go buy some potion ingredients from Knockturn Alley, I’ll come and collect you shortly,” said Snape as he pointed to a shady looking street off to the left.

  
Harry nodded and was glad he didn’t need to go into Knockturn Alley, it looked highly unsavoury.

  
He entered the shop feeling rather out of place. All the bright cheerful robes felt mocking next to Harry’s tatty hand-me-downs.

  
Harry was soon distracted by a squat smiling witch dressed all in mauve, he assumed she was Madam Malkin.

  
“Hogwarts, dear?” she asked.

  
Harry nodded.

  
“Got the lot here – another young man is being fitted up just now, in fact.”

  
Madam Malkin led Harry to the back of the store where a blond boy with a pale pointed face was stood on a footstool, while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

  
Harry was stood on another footstool next to the blond, and Madam Malkin slipped an identical robe over Harry’s head.

  
“Hullo,” said the boy, “Hogwarts too?”

  
Harry nodded.

  
“My father is next door buying my books, and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” said the boy, he had a bored drawling voice.

  
“Where are your parents?” He asked.

  
Harry swallowed and nearly said they were dead, when he realised that no they weren’t, not any more.

  
“Saint Mungos,” said Harry.

  
The boy looked shocked for a moment, “Healers are they?”

  
Harry shook his head sadly.

  
The boy shifted awkwardly on his stool, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He did look apologetic so Harry forgave him.

  
“It’s okay you didn’t know,” said Harry, and he offered the blond a weak smile.

  
To his relief the other boy changed the subject.

  
“Do you know what house you’ll be in yet?”

  
Harry shook his head, “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about them.”

  
The blond blinked, “How come, you’re not a muggle born are you?” he sounded slightly repulsed.

  
Harry had already gathered that muggles were the wizarding word for non-magical people, “No both my parents were magical, but they couldn’t look after me so I was sent to my muggle aunt and uncle’s house.”

  
The blond pulled an appalled face, “ _Uhg_ , that’s awful. I can’t imagine what it’s like to live with muggles.”

  
Harry shrugged, “Most muggles are okay, but my aunt, uncle and cousin are horrible. They didn’t even tell me I was a wizard. In fact I only found out today. And only because Professor Snape turned up at my house to collect me.”

  
The blond boy nearly fell off his stool, “That’s horrific!”

  
Harry nodded.

  
The blond seemed to remember something important and his face lit up, “You know Severus?” asked the boy.

  
Harry cocked his head to the side, “Professor Snape?”

  
The blond nodded.

  
“Yes, he seems okay,” said Harry.

  
The blond nodded in agreement, “Yes he’s my godfather actually.”

  
“Really?” exclaimed Harry.

  
“Yes, he’s my father’s closest friend. Actually dad should be arriving here soon, you can meet him.”

  
True to his word the blond boy’s father soon approached the front of Madam Malkin’s shop accompanied by Snape.

  
The boy’s father was a tall man with long hair the exact shade as his son’s, and Snape was striding along at his side like a particular sinister shadow. They seemed friendly enough with each other. Well as friendly as the stern potion master could be.

  
They entered the shop just as Harry and the other boy finished their fittings.

  
The tall graceful man practically glided over to the two boys, he had a sort of aristocratic elegance Harry had only ever seen portrayed on TV.

  
“Ah Draco,” he said in an equally posh voice, “I see you have met Mister Potter.”

  
Harry and Draco glanced at each other, “You’re Harry Potter?” asked the blond boy. He looked a bit shocked.

  
“Um yes,” said Harry with a shrug.

  
Snape had briefly explained that he was relatively well known in the wizarding world, as his parents had been rather high profile members of the wizarding community and their torture had caused quite the outcry.

  
“Well I’m Draco Malfoy,” he said this while extending his hand for a shake, Harry thought this rather formal for twelve year olds but accepted the hand anyway.

  
Snape looked on with cool amusement, “I took the liberty of collecting your books and potion ingredients for you, Potter. You just need a wand now, and if you are so inclined you’re allowed a pet at Hogwarts.”

  
Harry looked up with glee, he wondered if he’d be allowed a snake.

  
“Hi Severus,” said Draco with a grin.

  
Snape greeted his godson with a slight incline of his head and the barest hint of a smirk, “Well it looks like you both need wands, shall we make our way to Ollivanders?”

  
Mr Malfoy nodded in agreement.

  
Harry left Madam Malkin’s with his school robes, and an assortment of smart yet casual everyday wear.

  
Madam Malkin had helpfully cast feather weight charms on Harry’s bags so he wasn’t struggling to carry them down the street.

  
On the way to Ollivanders Draco’s mother joined them. She possessed all the glacial beauty of a snowflake, but she seemed far from delicate. Her hair was so blonde it was nearly white and Harry could see Draco had inherited her sharp cheekbones and grey eyes. She introduced herself to Harry as Narcissa.

  
So Harry, Snape and the posse of Malfoys made their way down Diagon Alley, turning several heads as they strode past. They were probably wondering who the scruffy interloper was tagging along with the proud pureblood family.

  
However, they soon reached the wand shop. It was the last shop on the street, and it was rather disappointingly shabby looking. Peeling gold letters arched over the door read _Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 BC_.

  
However, Harry knew better than to judge a book by its cover, and was proved right when he entered the store behind Snape.

  
The first thing Harry noticed was the aura of pure energy that buzzed inside the shop. It whipped and crackled around Harry like a storm cloud, and he wondered why the other wizards didn’t bat an eye at it. They either couldn’t feel it or they didn’t care.

  
“Good afternoon,” floated a soft voice, from somewhere in the darkness.

  
An old man seemed to appear out of nowhere. His wide pale eyes shone like twin moons through the gloom of the shop.

  
“Ollivander,” said Mr Malfoy, “Good to see you again.”

  
The wandmaker gave Malfoy senior a respectful nod, “Wand still treating you well, Lucius?”

  
He nodded, “Yes, it’s a very fine wand Mister Ollivander.”

  
“Good good, you too Severus, Narcissa?” asked the eerie wandmaker.

  
Snape and Narcissa both nodded.

  
“Well you’re certainly not here for wands,” Ollivander then turned towards Harry and Draco – who both looked rather nervous.

  
“I wondered when I would be seeing you Mister Potter,” said Ollivander, gliding closer to stare at Harry, almost so close they were nose to nose.

  
Harry didn’t say anything and just watched as Ollivander whipped out a long tape measure.

  
“Which is your wand arm?” asked the wandmaker.

  
Harry held out his right arm, and to his surprise the tape measure started to take his measurements all on its own like a thin flat eel swimming through the air. Ollivander let the tape measure do its work while he flitted around the shelves, taking down boxes.

  
After a while Ollivander gave a sharp, “That will do,” and the tape measure crumpled to the floor.

  
“Here, try this,” said the wandmaker, handing over a thin black wand for Harry to wave.

  
As soon as it brushed Harry’s fingertips Ollivander was snatching it away from him again.

  
Harry felt like he’d tried half the wands in the shop by the time anything happened.

Ollivander glanced at Harry with his misty moonlike eyes, “Hmm yes, why not, aspen and basilisk fang. Not often used merely because of the scarcity of basilisks, not to mention they’re very reluctant to give anyone a shaving of their fangs.”

  
As soon as Harry gripped the wand he felt a sharp shock shoot up his arm, and a shower of silver and gold sparks shot out the end of the wand.

  
“Oh bravo! Yes indeed, oh very good. That’s the one for you Mister Potter. Basilisk fangs can be extremely temperamental, but it seems it’s willing to bow to your judgement. The wand chooses the wizard after all.”

  
Harry nodded and clutched at his wand, he didn’t want to let it go. It was the very pale cream of dried aspen wood, and it had sinuous runes carved up the sides. Harry could almost feel the magic pulsing off it like a heartbeat, and in that moment he realised that wands were very much alive.

  
Draco found his wand a lot quicker than Harry did, but no less spectacularly. His wand hissed a stream of silver mist out of its tip, and pure pride shone on the faces of Narcissa and Lucius. Harry couldn’t help but feel rather jealous.

  
Harry and Draco both paid for their wands and left the wand shop. Harry also bought himself a small discreet wand holster for his wrist.

  
The Malfoys soon bid Harry and Snape goodbye, and Draco gave Harry a friendly pat on the arm, “I’ll see you at Hogwarts, Potter!”

  
Harry watched as they apperated away, and wondered if for the first time in his life if he had a friend.

  
“Well Potter, we can make one last stop at one of the pet stores. If you want a pet of course.”

  
Harry nodded excitedly, “Can I get a snake?” he asked.

  
It was obviously not what Snape was expecting.

  
“A Snake? Why on earth do you want a snake?”

  
Harry shrugged, “I just like them,” He didn’t want to mention the fact that he could hear them talk, and speak back to them. He wasn’t sure if that was normal.

  
Nonetheless, Snape led Harry to a small humid shop with _Nocturna’s Reptiles and Amphibians_ painted over the door frame.

  
The soft chirp of crickets and a stifling warmth greeted Harry and Snape as they stepped through the door, and Harry felt the scorch of unblinking reptilian eyes follow him around the room.

  
“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” asked a tall witch with bright blue dreadlocks.

  
Snape answered her, “Yes, we’re looking for a breed of snake that is relatively docile and doesn’t grow too big,” He glanced at Harry, “It would also need to be non-venomous.”

  
The witch nodded and led them over to the shop window.

  
“We have a few snakes that fit that description, let me show you.”

  
The reptile witch showed Harry and Snape a variety of snakes, but a small albino corn snake caught Harry’s eye.

  
“So Potter,” Asked Snape, “Which one do you want? Strictly speaking snakes aren’t on the approved pet list for Hogwarts but no one ever pays any attention to that rule.”

  
Harry grinned and turned to the witch, “Could I have the white one please.” He asked.

  
She nodded and carefully coaxed the little red-eyed snake into her hands. Harry heard her hiss in annoyance, something along the lines of " _I was comfortable there you fool"_.

  
Harry giggled, which earnt him a sharp look from Snape.

  
The reptile witch gently held the little snake out for Harry to hold. He carefully accepted the snakeling.

  
The desk witch smiled at Harry and informed him about his snake, “Now, as soon as you name her she’ll bond to you as your familiar. You’d best do that before you leave the shop, otherwise she might make a break for freedom.”

  
Harry stared down at the little snake who stared right back.

  
“Opal,” said Harry firmly, and gasped as he felt the shimmer of magic that bound him to the little snake, Opal obviously felt it too because she gave a little wriggle of contentment.

  
“Great!” Smiled the reptile witch.

  
“Corn snakes only eat about once a week and mainly eat mice. But they won’t turn their noses up at quails eggs and other rodents, however, yours is only a hatchling so she’ll need to your help her find baby mice at first. But once she’s grown she’ll be able to find her own prey.”

  
Harry smiled and let Opal slither up his sleeve, “Yes ma’am.”

  
Harry handed over five galleons for Opal and walked out of the shop, it was now nearly dusk and the sun was low in the sky.

  
“Do I have to go home now?” asked Harry, worried that the Dursleys wouldn’t like Opal at all.

  
Snape frowned, “I can’t let you go back there. Not after seeing how awful they were to you.”

  
A happy yet hesitant spark ignited inside Harry’s chest.

  
“And you’re too young to stay at the Leaky Cauldron on your own,” Snape heaved a monumental sigh, “I suppose the only option is for you to come home with me.”

  
Harry fidgeted, “I don’t want to be a burden, sir.”

  
Snape just tutted, “Come along Potter, we’ll apparate to my house.”

  
Harry once again gripped tightly onto Snape’s arm after making sure Opal was secure. This time round Harry was prepared for the tight squeeze of darkness, it didn’t make it any less overwhelming though.

  
Little Opal didn’t like it at all, and once they landed she burrowed into the crook of Harry’s neck hissing in fear.

  
Harry took a few deep gasps of air and then cradled his new familiar, “ _Shh it’s okay, we’re safe now_ ,” he hissed quietly, hoping Snape wouldn’t hear him.

  
Snape gave Harry a piercing look but stayed silent.

  
Once Harry was sure Opal was okay, he took in his surroundings.

  
They were in a deserted street, lined with identical brick houses and broken streetlamps. Harry could see the shadowy silhouette of a tall industrial chimney looming over the houses in the darkness. Harry shivered, this town didn’t seem very friendly. It was downright eerie compared to the cheerful and lively Diagon Alley.

  
Snape glanced down at Harry, “This way Potter.”

  
Harry dutifully followed the professor to the very end of the street, and to what could only be Snape’s house.

  
It was made of red bricks just like the rest of the houses, but Harry could feel the buzz of magic surrounding it, rather like Ollivander’s wand shop.

  
Snape tapped the door with his wand and held it open for Harry to scurry inside. He then stepped in behind him and shut the door behind them, leaving them in total darkness.

  
Before Harry’s eyes could get used to the light Snape muttered a spell under his breath and dark gothic lamps flickered into life and lit up the narrow hallway they were standing in. Opal gave a little hiss at the sudden change in lighting.

  
“First door on the left, Potter,” said Snape curtly.

  
Harry darted down the hall and into the first room, as he stepped through the doorway the lamps immediately flickered on. They illuminated a living room with an ornate fireplace, a long elegant settee, and several old Victorian style armchairs. The walls were also completely covered in books. They ranged from old dusty ones with peeling leather covers to recipe books and ancient Greek myths.

  
Harry stood silently awaiting orders, wondering what was going to happen now.

  
Snape stepped into the room and closed the door behind himself, “I’m afraid I only have one bed so you will have to sleep on the sofa for now, but I’ll talk to Dumbledore and sort something else out for you soon.”

  
Harry nodded gratefully and Snape’s sofa looked a lot more comfortable than his hard, old mattress at privet drive ever did.

  
Snape then snapped his fingers at thin air and called out, “Bobbin!”

  
To Harry's astonishment a tiny figure popped out of nowhere and curtsied at Snape. It had big round eyes and bat-like ears.

  
Harry guessed it to be female only by observing what it was wearing. The tiny creature was wearing a white pillowcase fashioned into a dress, and a blue checked tea-towel cinched around her waist as an apron.

  
“Yes Master, how can Bobbin be helping you today?” squeaked the little creature, she stood no more than two feet high.

  
Snape addressed her again, “We have a guest staying, his name is Harry Potter. He will be sleeping on the sofa, please make up a temporary bed for him. We will also be needing supper, oh and see if you can find a small mouse for Potter’s snake. Thank you Bobbin, you’re dismissed.”

  
The creature gave another tidy curtsy and evaporated away with a delicate pop.

  
“Sir… what was she?” asked Harry, curiosity overriding his manners.

  
Snape faced Harry, “That was a house elf, as you probably noticed her name is Bobbin. If you ever need anything while under my roof, so long as it is within reason, feel free to call for her. She’ll gladly fetch you anything.”

  
Harry nodded and wondered if every wizard had an elf. He felt a bit uneasy asking someone else to wait on him hand and foot, especially after he had first hand experience on how unpleasant it could be.

  
Snape soon excused himself to go brew in his laboratory, he told Harry to stay in the living room until Bobbin called him for dinner.

  
Harry occupied himself by talking to Opal.

  
“ _So, how old are you? I’m eleven years old today_ ,” hissed Harry as he held Opal up next to his face so he could converse with her properly.

  
The little snake wiggled until she was comfortable and replied, “ _I am three moons and a day old_.”

  
“ _Ah yes, it was a full moon yesterday. Is that how snakes keep track of time, with lunar cycles?_ ”

  
Opal nodded her tiny head, the light from the fireplace reflected in her pink eyes making them glow a vibrant red.

  
“ _Many animals keep track using the moon and stars, owls are especially good at it_ ,” She hissed.

  
Harry chuckled, “ _I suppose they would be, what with being nocturnal and all_.”

  
They sat in silence for a while basking in the warmth of the fire until Opal asked a question.

  
“ _How come you can speak the language of snakes master? It is a rare talent amongst your kind._ ”

  
Harry shook his head, “ _I am afraid I don’t know, but I’m glad I can. And you don’t have to call me master, my name is Harry._ ”

  
“ _Of course, Harry._ ”

  
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Bobbin.

  
“Young master and young master’s familiar, dinner is being ready in the dining room. If sir would follow me,” announced the house elf.

  
Harry stood up and tucked Opal around his neck, “Lead the way Bobbin,” he said.

  
The house elf led Harry and Opal to a dimly lit room with a small square table that was only set for two. Yet Harry noticed that a tiny saucer for Opal had been set to the side.  
It held a single and very dead baby mouse. Harry almost felt sorry for it. It was a tiny pink thing smaller than his little finger, however, Opal seemed to appreciate it and her tongue started to flicker out and taste her meal on the air.

  
Harry sat down and waited for Snape to arrive, he soon made an entrance and sat down as Bobbin started serving a thick creamy soup and large chunks of fresh bread.

  
Harry set Opal on the table next to her mouse. She eagerly devoured it by starting to engulf it headfirst.

  
Harry was fascinated while Snape seemed unaffected. Harry supposed it was because he was used to chopping up all sorts of nasty things for his potions, so what was one snake swallowing a rodent?

  
However, the rich smell of the soup soon pulled Harry’s attentions away from his familiar and towards his grumbling stomach.

  
He tucked in with gusto but found himself unable to eat all of it. Harry was not used to this much food and it was giving him a stomach ache, but he felt awfully rude not eating Bobbin’s carefully prepared food.

  
Snape seemed to notice this and consoled him, “Harry, don’t feel like you need to eat all of your food. Bobbin won’t be upset, I’ll brew you up some nutrients potions soon and we can get your appetite back on track.”

  
Harry blushed in shame, he didn’t like feeling pitied but he remembered his manners, “Yes sir, thank you.”

  
Snape looked conflicted for a moment but soon gathered his composure again, “Harry you’ve suffered neglect and abuse from your muggle relatives, which is unforgivable of them. I want you to know that I am not your enemy and that you can talk to me about it.”

  
Harry nodded, “Thank you sir, but I’m tired… I think I would like to go to bed.”

  
There was an almost unnoticeable crease of sadness that made itself known in between Snape's eyebrows, but it vanished almost as quickly as it came, “Bobbin show Harry to the bathroom so he may brush his teeth and wash his face before he goes to bed.”

  
Bobbin popped out of nowhere and led Harry to a small bathroom that branched off the main corridor. The tiles were faded and the brass taps squeaked but everything was clean and did what it was supposed to.

  
Once washed Harry changed into his new pyjamas and settled into his temporary bed on Snape’s sofa. Opal curled up on a footstool next to the fire, contended and full.

  
Bobbin turned out the lights but left the fire going.

  
Harry was in a strange town, in stranger’s house, on a stranger’s sofa but he’d never felt safer.

  
It was all in all, his best birthday ever.  
  
…  
  
When Harry woke he was disorientated for a moment. His mattress was unusually soft and he was pleasantly warm. It was only when he opened his eyes that he remember what had happened.

  
Harry grinned to himself as he watched the dying embers of the fire. Opal still appeared to be asleep curled up on her footstool. He’s been through a lot recently but it was all for the better. Soon he’d be going to Hogwarts to learn magic, and he’d never have to see the Dursley’s again!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading the first chapter everyone. I hope you enjoyed it. 
> 
> Reviews, criticism and suggestions are always welcome. I really do appreciate it. 
> 
> I also have a Harry Potter dedicated tumblr at [protect-credence.tumblr.com] if anyone is interested, feel free to send me a message there if you want to.
> 
> Stay safe and look after yourselves.


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